


Winged Cupid

by viiemzee



Category: Chasing Life (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blind Character, Blindness, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 06:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2098788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viiemzee/pseuds/viiemzee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”</p><p>“Nerd.”</p><p>“Your nerd.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winged Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> Aren't they just so fucking adorable??? I've been meaning to write a few Chasing Life things, and here they are! Leave comments and/or kudos - much appreciated :3  
> Also I apologize for Blind!Greer...but I've always wanted to write a blind character.

**Greer**

It’s kind of weird, knowing that there are things around you, and that there are people moving around, and yet you can’t see them. I can sense them – as odd as it sounds, I can feel the vibrations in the air, I can hear everything so vividly. But I can’t see them.

I’ve had to deal with this for a while now. It sucks being in a car accident. It sucks even more when that car accident blinds you.

I’m getting used to it. My biggest disappointment is not being able to see...well, faces. 

* * *

**Brenna**

I can’t stand watching Greer be like this. Her eyes are dull, I can barely see the colour in them anymore. And the scars around her eyelids, though scary at first, are now just full of sadness for me.

Why do the best people in life end up with the worst rotten luck?

* * *

**Greer**

“Do you remember what green looks like?”

I laugh, sliding my hand across the table for the water bottle and bringing it to my lips. “I’ve only been blind for two years, Brenna. I remember what colours and people look like.”

“Do you think green’s a nice colour?”

I shrug, putting the water down and sliding my hand in the opposite direction of it, trying to find my fork to eat my lunch with. “Well, not really. Colour of jealousy and all that, isn’t it? I mean, Shakespeare said it right – Beware the green eyed monster, or something like that.”

I felt my hand brush skin and stopped, freezing in spot. Brenna didn’t seem to notice, leaving her hand right there, and I simply detracted slowly.

Is it possible to still see sparks even after you can’t see anything?

* * *

**Brenna**

Fine, yeah, I had started talking to Greer way back when (after the accident...) because I felt sorry for her. Not being able to see...that’s just scary. I’d tried to close my eyes once and see how I could manage, and I’d gotten scared. It’s just as bad as being stuck in a dark room, only you’re never going to get out of this one and into some bright light.

So yeah, it was pity that started it. And something else that fuelled it.

* * *

**Greer**

Brenna liked to sit with me and tell me about all the different things happening around us. We did this once a week – she’d pick me up in her car, we’d drive to the park, or a coffee shop, and we’d talk. She’d tell me about the people around them, almost painting a picture with her words.

Clearly, her father’s talent with words hadn’t only passed to April. 

* * *

**Brenna**

“So what’s the sky like today?”

I look up and frown. “Grey.”

“Rainy?”

“As usual for April, isn’t it?” I give a small laugh, remembering the fact that my sister hadn’t been so grey herself since the chemo worked and she had been successfully let back into the normal world. I got up and put a hand on Greer’s shoulder. “I’ll drive you home, come on.”

She nodded and reached her hand out to me, linking our arms and walking on next to me as I led her through the parking lot.

“I can’t wait for May,” she whispers, and I smile to myself.

“Why?”

“Because it’ll be sunny. And if I can’t see the light, I might as well get to feel the sunshine.”

How can anyone still be so positive about all this?

* * *

**Greer**

“Do you miss being able to see?”

“No, the world is better dark,” I joke darkly, chuckling to myself as I imagine poor Brenna’s confused face as she thought I was serious.

“I’m kidding, Brenna. Of course I miss being able to see. But I have to admit, I am used to not seeing things anymore.”

“What do you miss the most?”

I felt her rustle on the sofa we were sitting on, and I match her movements (as well as I can through my senses) – crossing my legs and turning to ‘look’ at her.

“Strangely enough, it’s not colours, or like the sunset or whatever. It’s people. I miss seeing faces.”

For a moment, there’s silence between us, and then she grabs my hand slowly, startling me (she was so quiet about it...). I hold my breath as she brings my hand up to her face and puts it against her cheek.

“Do you remember what I look like?”

I wordlessly nod, but my thumb is stroking her cheek and slowly, she lets go of my hand, and I run my index finger across her skin, arching over her nose and tracing her lips, going back up to tread softly over her closed eyelids, and resting in her hair, my fingers digging slightly into a fistful of it.

“I remember.” More so now than ever.

* * *

**Brenna**

It wasn’t really a secret that Greer and I had had a thing in the past, back when she could still see. And fine, we had broken up – we both fucked up, it’s just what teenagers do. But three years later, two of them with one half of us not being able to see, it was almost like people expected us to both be over it.

And I can definitely assure you (and myself) that it was so not the case.

* * *

**Greer**

Dreams are the worst, because most of the time I have flashbacks.

And more often than not, it involves Brenna.

The first time she kissed me on my porch, the time Sara caught us on the bed, her sister’s face when I met her for the first time (radiant and glowing despite the chemotherapy, smiling and welcoming me into her life), the first time we did That (on my bed when my parents where on one of their business trips), the time we both got drunk and almost broke Brenna’s bedroom door...

I hated opening my eyes after a dream and realizing that I hadn’t seen her face in two years.

* * *

**Brenna**

“Greer?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss...you know...”

“Chocolate?”

I smiled to myself. Trust her. “No, not that.”

“Coz I haven’t had some in a while and it would be nice...”

“Greer, Serious Talk.”

She froze. We both knew that Serious Talk was code for ‘Listen to me, please’. And that whenever one of us uttered it, we had to switch off the jokes, if at least for a few minutes.

“Do you miss Us?”

She breathed in, holding her breath and turning her face away from me, her sightless eyes turning down to look at her hands on her lap. She was clenching and unclenching her fists, I was dying a little inside.

“Yeah.”

* * *

**Greer**

Kissing Brenna again after three years almost makes me remember exactly what her face looks like, and helps me form a new image of her.

There’s a small pucker of skin over her left eyebrow, where I assume she may have gotten some stitches or something (I make a mental note to ask her about that, some day).

Her lips are just as soft as they were the first time.

Her hands are patient, and her left hand is full of small calluses she clearly got from practicing the guitar, after I had convinced her to start up an instrument back when we were dating (I’m pleasantly surprised she still plays).

The back of her neck is cool and smooth, like alabaster.

Her hair is slightly shorter than I remember it, but it doesn’t matter.

She is so full of her self, that it’s beautiful.

She is so decidedly Brenna.

* * *

**Brenna**

Now more than ever, Greer and I were inseparable, and had a totally great excuse to hold hands as we walked around campus (other than ‘I’m helping my blind best friend along the way to her Algebra III class’). We snuck kisses whenever we could, we spent more time lounging on sofas or beds, and for a while it felt like we were back to three years ago, only with experience and a little bit more wisdom this time.

The only difference was that she couldn’t see how happy I was.

* * *

**Brenna**

“Greer? What’s wrong?”

She was crying silently, hoping I wouldn’t notice, her hand over her eyes and the other grasping out to grab onto me. I engulfed her into my arms rolling over in the bed we were sharing that night to hold her close to me properly, half sitting up and half lying down against the headrest.

She choked out something I couldn’t hear, and I put my ears closer to her mouth, kissing at her neck slightly to try and calm her down.

“Come on, baby. What’s wrong?”

“It’s been three years.”

I swallowed. Right. The day of the accident. Three years since she lost the ability to see for good. Three years of nothing but black behind her eyes.

(Time moves so quickly when you’re dating the love of your life.)

I kissed her softly, hoping to calm her down, rubbing her back in circles, and gradually the sniffling stopped and turning into the occasional sniff. We lay back down, Greer clinging to me and her head on my chest. I looked up at the dark ceiling and kissed the top of her head.

“On the bright side-”

“I can’t see the bright side,” she dead panned, and I kissed her head again, with a little more force.

“On the bright side,” I repeated, “you and I have been a new and improved Us for about six months now.”

* * *

**Greer**

A year passes by quickly with Brenna in tow. She dragged me through the past twelve months with her hands clamped firmly around mine to make sure I don’t fall and hurt myself. I forgot about being blind around her – I didn’t need to see her to know that she was happy, to know that I was happy, to know that she was beautiful.

“What if we get married?”

“Brenna...”

“No, seriously, I’m never gonna get to show off my awesome white dress as I walk down the aisle to you and you look at me and smile because that dress looks amazing on me. And you’re never gonna see the decorations or the cake or the people or the band or your own dress and that’s just sad!”

I swatted at her, making her utter a small ‘Ow’ as I rolled over onto my side to look in her general direction.

“Brenna, that’s not what getting married is all about. I mean, I’d like to have my own pair of eyes to see it all, but as long as everything goes fine, it’ll be OK...”

She leans into me, kissing me gently, and pulling away to whisper against my lips.

“Let me be your eyes,” she says, her lips moving against mine and making me want to kiss her more. 

* * *

**Brenna**

“I love you,” I mutter in the stillness of the aftermath of a party where only the two of us had been invited. Cartons of Chinese food lay on the floor near us, and an empty bottle of wine, and my head was on her chest as she lay on the sofa, breathing in everything and running her own, familiar hands down my back.

“I love you too,” she murmurs, and I lean up to pull myself closer to her face, kissing her, the taste of her still in my mouth, and she pushes my face away slightly to take a deep breath and smile, making me smile just as wide as her. 

“Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

I laugh, swatting her arm slightly. “Nerd." 

“Your nerd.”


End file.
